


Sweetness of Summer

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Alcohol, Babies, Day drinking, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Paige Dineen - Freeform, Post-Finale, Pregnancy, Summer, beach, smooches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 7,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything can be as angsty as that season 2 finale, so here are some silly, fluffy, summer-themed, under 1000 word ficlets of the Scorpion team being a bucket of dorks. Ships can go from Quintis to Waige to O'Quinn and Quieen. All the ships, depending on the prompts!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Their Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maggiemaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/gifts).



> Thank you to Maggie fatesofstarlight for motivating me to write fun fluff again!

“That is not happening.”

“Why not?” Toby whines, pressing kisses to Happy’s neck. “It’s romantic.”

“ _Rock You Like a Hurricane_ is not romantic,” Happy argues. “Look, we'll just put the radio on or something. It's not like we have a song already.”

Toby pulls away, the puppy dog pout all over his face. “Pretty please?”

“No,” Happy says flatly.

“Well, we can’t do it while listening to the radio,” he sighs, leaning against the back of the couch. “Radios have commercials, and we’re not getting interrupted by some middle aged lady doing an informercial for Swiffer.”

"Of all the things that could go wrong on that day, a middle aged lady will probably be the least of our worries." Happy smiles at him. "Is it bad I'm still waiting for something to make ruin this?"

Toby leans in and pulls her in for a smothering hug, and Happy ends up half in his lap and half off the couch.

“That was graceful,” Happy mumbles, swinging her legs back up so she doesn't slide off and drag Toby with her.

“We’re getting married,” Toby sighs. “I just like reminding myself that I’m going to get to do this every day for the rest of my life. Because it's not going to go wrong - it's going to be amazing.” He kisses the top of her head. Happy’s a little uncomfortable – her arm is pinned between her leg and Toby’s ribs – but she’s disgustingly content. After a more than a year of turmoil, after getting rid of that anchor to her past that had weighed her down, she’s finally able to do this.

She’s finally able to marry Toby Curtis. And it's happening before the end of the month.

Happy uses her thumb to spin the ring on her finger, a constant reminder that she didn't wreck them, that they're going to work.  She rolls over so she can move her arm and throw her leg over Toby’s lap. “How about this,” Happy says, pressing a kiss to Toby’s lips, “why don’t we put the radio on in the background, and get a little,” she unbuttons her shirt, “distracted, and whatever song makes sense will be the song we dance to.”

“Is Happy Quinn leaving things up to fate?” Toby asks. “What happened to math and science come first?”

Happy waits for him to make the joke.

Toby looks concerned. "What?"

“You’re not going to make a dirty joke about who comes first?” Happy frowns. “Who are you and what have you done with Toby Curtis?”

He reaches up to thread his fingers through his hair. “I’m just distracted by the fact that I get to marry you." He runs his fingertips along her shoulders, sending a shiver up her spine. "No time for dirty jokes.”

Happy leans in to kiss him, and, just as their lips meet, the radio starts blaring _Pour Some Sugar On Me_.

“Happy!” Toby exclaims, looking like an excited puppy. “Can this be our first –”

“No,” Happy says firmly. Before Toby can argue, she shuts him up with a kiss.


	2. Day Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunk Happy is an honest Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Maggie's prompt "Quintis + Day drinking"

“This,” says Toby, trying to sit up, “was not supposed to happen.” The roof is spinning around him, and he’s glad that at least he and Happy are sitting in a corner so that they won’t accidentally stumble off the side of the building.

“Not our fault,” Happy mumbles, throwing her arms around his waist. He freezes. Even in his vodka-soaked mind, he knows how weird this is. Happy Quinn, anti-PDA queen, is hugging him in the roof of the garage during a party. “They kept giving us jello shots at two in the afternoon.”

“I love jello shots,” Toby mumbles, sinking back into the lawn chair he and Happy are squished onto.

“I love you,” Happy slurs, snuggling into Toby’s chest.

“You what now?” Toby asks, and suddenly everything clears up, freezes, steadies. “Did you just say –”

“Yeah,” Happy mumbles. “Now shut up. I’m gonna nap until there’s fireworks and hot dogs.”

“You can’t tell me you love me in the middle of a Fourth of July party while you’re drunk and then take a nap!” Toby exclaims, running his fingers through Happy’s hair. He tries not get too excited. Happy’s drunk. Like, really drunk. They both are. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. But that doesn't change the fact that she said it.

“Yeah, I can,” Happy replies. “Now shut up. I’m gonna nap until there’s fireworks and hot dogs.”

“You said that already,” Toby says with a laugh.

“That’s because I say what I mean,” Happy says. She lifts her head up to look him dead in the eyes. “Even," she slides her hand up the side of his neck, sending shivers up Toby's spine, "when I’m drunk.”

“Well that was forward,” Toby says. He sounds breathless and unsteady even to his own ears. His eyes keep flickering from her lips to her eyes, unsure of which he loves most about her.

“So’s this.” Happy leans in and kisses him, slow and tantalizing and, god, this woman will be the death of him but it’ll be the sweetest death imaginable.

“Get a room, lovebirds!” shouts Cabe from where he’s tending the grill. “Jello shots and tequila are no excuse for getting handsy in front of the kid.”

“I’m not looking!” Ralph yells from where he and Sylvester are playing chess.

Happy laughs openly as she presses her face into Toby’s chest, and they’re hot and drunk and they smell a lot like tequila, but Toby’s pretty sure he’s never been happier.

“I love you,” he says quietly as he kisses the top of Happy’s head.

“I said that first,” Happy mumbles. But she holds him tighter, and soon falls asleep in his arms.


	3. Summer Chill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy's drunk and the air conditioner is cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "Quintis + "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.”"

Happy flops into bed, the alcohol swimming in her mind like an overzealous goldfish. Or a blue tang. Or a salmon.

“Toby, which fish is the fastest?” she mumbles, rolling over. The air conditioning is blaring in the room and, despite the alcohol, she’s cold. Happy curls up on herself.

“No idea,” Toby replies. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“Enough,” she replies. She shivers. “Is it cold in here?”

Toby shakes his head. “Not too bad. Why?”

Happy ignores the question. “Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater?” She sits up, head spinning. “It smells like you.”

Even bombed out of her mind, Happy can read the shock on his face. “Say that one more time, drunky?”

“Shut up,” Happy mumbles. “Sweater. Mine.” She watches him pull the sweater off over his head, the tee shirt riding up around his chest. “You should take your shirt off, too.”

Toby laughs. “You really are drunk.”

“Only a lot bit,” Happy replies. “Now give me your sweater and get in bed so I can make out with your face.”

Toby’s laughter grows stronger. “You’re funny when you’re drunk. We’ve having margarita night with Paige more often.”

“I love tequila almost as much as I love you,” Happy says. She stands up, a little unsteady, grabs a handful of his shirt, and kisses him. Even in her tequila-soaked mind she can tell it’s sloppy and a total mess. She pulls Toby on top of her, falling on the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He kisses her nose. “Drink some water and go to sleep, babe.”

“Want to kiss your face,” Happy says, but she yawns. “Hey, do we have work tomorrow?”

“Well, considering today’s Thursday, yeah. Yeah, we do.”

Happy groans. “Not good.” She pulls on Toby’s sweater, feeling comforted by the underlying Tobyness of it all. “But now I’m warm.”

“We could have turned off the air conditioner,” Toby says, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen and setting it next to Happy’s bed. "Probably would have been more season appropriate."

Happy shakes her head, pulling him down so she can cuddle up next to him. “Nah,” Happy replies, “your sweater is better.”


	4. Stick Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby can't drive stick shift, and, if had been any other situation, he damn well wouldn't be driving Happy's car.

“For fuck’s sake, Toby,” Happy says, just barely keeping her head from smacking against the back of the seat. “You keep forgetting the clutch. You can’t drive my truck if you don’t know how to drive stick shift!” She fiddles with the air conditioner. The July heat has been killing her the past few days, but it’s never been so agonizing as it is right now.

“I do know how to drive stick shift,” Toby replies, the car jolting again, making Happy a little queasier than she already is. “I just – your truck is a fucking monster.”

“You’re a monster,” Happy snaps. A wave of pain hits again and she grabs Toby’s hand. “Learn to drive or I’m kicking you out of the driver’s seat.”

“Happy, you’re practically crowning,” Toby says, and he manages not to make the car lurch as they take the exit for the hospital. “You’re not driving while you’re in labor.”

“Oh yeah?” Happy counters. “And whose fault is that?”

“Yours,” Toby laughs, squeezing her hand. 

Happy pulls her hand away and punches him in the shoulder."Wrong," Happy says. "It's yours." She puts on her Toby voice. "'Oh, Happy, let's be parents. Oh, Happy, our baby would be so amazing!' This is miserable."

"It's going to be amazing," Toby clarifies. "I swear it."

“Yeah, well, your son is kicking my ass,” she growls. “And your daughter is halfway into my ribcage, apparently a procrastinator like you already. Why do you have twins in your family again?”

“In our family,” Toby corrects. He parks in the closest spot to the hospital door and takes Happy’s hand. “Are you ready, Hap?” he asks.

“Fuck, no,” Happy replies, wincing. “I’m two weeks before I was supposed to be induced, I’m in labor with twins, and family history indicates labor is dangerous even with one baby. So no,” she throws him a look, feeling the panic well over her. “Toby, I’m scared.”

"You," Toby says, helping her out of the truck, "are allowed to be scared. But you can do this. I know you can."

Four hours and a hectic, painful, and rapid labor later, Happy is holding her son while Toby is holding their daughter. There were complications – mainly due to the speed at which Max was born and the amount Gracie tried to procrastinate, leading to a cesarean section for her – but they’re fine. Happy, Gracie, and Max are all fine.

“She looks a lot like you,” Toby says quietly, rocking Gracie. “Mop of curly black hair and everything.”

"Oh, yeah?" Happy asks. "Because I was thinking Max looked like me too."

Max starts to fuss, and Happy does her best to quiet him. He’s small – smaller than Gracie is – but both of the babies are at safe weights.

“Hey, Toby?” Happy says, shifting Max so he can see his father.

“What’s up?”

“We’re parents.”

Toby grins at her, moving closer to the bed so Max and Gracie are right near each other. “That we are.”


	5. Love's a Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby and Happy are at the beach. That's it. That's the fluff.

“How many damned books did you bring?” Happy asks, digging through the beach bag. “I can’t find mine.”

Toby doesn’t even look over the side of the book he’s reading presently when he responds, “Four.”

“Four,” Happy repeats, sounding annoyed. “You brought four books why?”

Toby shrugs. “In case I need to compare sources.”

“And why can’t you just read a book like a normal person?” Happy asks. “We’re at the beach, not at the garage.”

Toby hears his books make a soft thud as they hit the sand, and that’s one thing he’s not cool with. His books are special. Toby sets his book down and looks over at Happy. “Because I – what the fuck?”

Happy pushes her sunglasses up into her hair, staring at him in surprise. “What?”

“How do you look even better on the beach?!” Toby exclaims. “I’m on layer four of sunscreen in two hours and I’m already burning.” He drops his book in the sand to join the others in defeat. “That’s it. I quit.”

“Quit what?” Happy laughs. “Quit being a pasty-ass white boy?”

“I’m from the north east!” Toby pouts. “We’re clinically vitamin D deficient!”

Happy snorts. “Don’t worry. I look good enough for the both of us.”

And she does. Happy slides her sunglasses back over her eyes and relaxes back on her beach towel. Toby’s eyes run up the length of her body, the dark purple bathing suit covering a lot less than Toby’s used to seeing from her in public. She’s got her hair down in messy waves, and it’s dangerously close to what he gets to look at after they have sex. He gets a shiver down his spine – he’s got no idea how he got here, with Happy, but, god damn.

“When do we go home?” Toby asks, shifting in his beach chair. He feels his skin burning, but he’s not sure it’s because of the sun.

Happy rolls to the side, that bikini top doing very little to keep her covered, and looks over the edge of her sunglasses. “Probably a couple of hours. We haven’t even gone in the ocean yet.”

“Cold water,” Toby says, leaping up. “That’s a really good idea right now.” He takes Happy’s hand. “Come on. We’re going swimming.”

“I didn’t mean now!” Happy says. “I wanted to warm up a little more.”

“What, the water too cold for you?” Toby asks, pulling her to her feet. “I bet you won’t even go in without me having to drag you in.”

Happy pulls off her sunglasses. “That a challenge, Curtis?”

“Are you taking that challenge,” he pulls her closer, “Quinn?”

She stands on her toes and presses a kiss to his lips.

And then sprints toward the ocean.

“Last one in buys dinner!” she calls back. She runs into the waves and, when the water is deep enough, dives in.

“How do you even swim attractively?” Toby shouts, wincing at every shell or rock he trips over. “Wait up!”

Happy’s head pops out of the waves. “You’re getting slow, Doc.”

“You’re a jerk,” Toby fires back, but, he has to admit, kissing Happy in the cold ocean while the sun beats down on them might be the best thing he’s ever felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm from the north east and I, too, am pasty and vitamin D deficient.)


	6. Grocery Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby insists that they go grocery shopping at seven in the morning. Happy is not pleased.

Happy yawns, padding alongside Toby. “Who actually goes grocery shopping this early?” she complains. “There’s nobody else here.”

“The produce and fresh foods are best early in the morning,” Toby replies, sounding far too chipper for seven in the morning. “So, if we buy it now we’ll have the freshest possible food for the week! It will last longer.”

“I’d rather have sleep,” Happy grumbles. “Can we at least make this fast?”

Toby shrugs. “Depends on whether or not you spend twenty minutes in the cookie aisle again.”

“I swear they used to sell red velvet Oreos at this place, and I stand by it.” Happy yawns, rubbing her eyes. She refused to change out of her pajamas on the principle that Toby made her leave at six thirty, but now she feels a little weird walking around a grocery store in one of Toby’s old Harvard shirts and a pair of Tweety Bird pajama pants she got on sale three years ago.

Toby grins at her. “You’re so pissed I woke you up this early, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Happy replies, glaring pointedly. “Because you could have gone grocery shopping without me. There is no reason for me to be awake right now if no one is dying or killing.”

“I mean,” Toby says, examining an eggplant, “somebody somewhere is dying and somebody else somewhere else is killing.” He puts the eggplant in the cart.

Happy rolls her eyes. “It’s too early for you to be arguing with me like that.”

They make their way through the store, Toby cheerily picking out healthy choice after organic option, babbling on about health benefits. Happy adds up the price of each item in the store because, if she didn’t, she’d fall asleep right here in the aisle.

“Wait, why are we walking into the baking section?” Happy asks. “You don’t bake. The last time you tried to bake scones you set off the fire alarm in the entire building.”

“We are here because,” he sneaks a kiss to the top of her head, “I wanted you to pick out what you want me to make you for breakfast.”

“I want sleep for breakfast,” Happy grumbles. “For the rest of the day.”

“Okay, but when you wake up,” Toby corrects. “Pancakes? I can make you pancakes.”

Happy perks up. “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

Toby smiles at her. “I knew I could make this worth it.”

“Oh, do not get the wrong idea,” Happy says. “I’m still annoyed.”

“Well, July 3rd is National Stay out of the Sun day,” Toby shrugs, grabbing ingredients for the pancakes he makes that are way better than they should be. “We have air conditioning, Netflix, new fresh groceries. I figured we could do breakfast in bed and,” he winks, “some other things in bed. It would be a good way to celebrate.”

Happy raises an eyebrow. “Is that a real thing?”

“Spending the day in bed or the holiday?”

“The holiday,” Happy clarifies. “We’ve spent all day in bed a million times.”

“Yeah, we have,” Toby says with a wink. “But, yeah. The holiday is real.”

They’re home within half an hour and Happy plans to go back to sleep the minute they get home.

But Toby gets her laughing with his dramatic rendition of _Lips of an Angel_ and other songs, so by the time they get back to their apartment, Happy is awake.

“Wait, hit the high note in _My Heart Will Go On_ again,” Happy chuckles. “Or, I guess, try to.”

Toby’s voice cracks so bad that Happy half stumbles over herself with giddiness when she opens their apartment door.

“Okay, pancake time,” she says, catching her breath. “And they better be good.”

“Oh,” Toby says, crowding Happy up against their kitchen table, “I’m always good.”

Happy stands on her toes to kiss him quickly. “Then prove it.”


	7. Beach Babes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paige and Happy have a day on the beach together.

“Okay, that’s not even fair,” Happy says, pushing down her sunglasses. She watches Paige step out of the ocean like somebody from Baywatch or something, long legs tanned from their day in the sun. She’s wearing something she calls a tankini, but it does nothing to deter Happy’s hungry eyes. Paige had argued that, since she's a mom, she can't wear bikinis anymore. Much to Happy's chagrin.

“What’s not fair?” Paige asks. Happy’s throat goes dry when Paige pulls out her ponytail and shakes out her hair. It's like she's trying to get her uncomfortable and awkward on the beach.

“That,” Happy says, gesturing toward her. “You looking like that and being all wet and – beachy.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “Are you staring, Happy Quinn?” she asks, grinning. She stretches out on the towel next to Happy.

“Yes,” Happy replies, as blunt as she can make it. “Yes, I am.”

“Calculating how my face fits in with the Fibonacci sequence or something?” Paige asks. “Again?”

“No, this time I’m just staring,” Happy replies. She chances a glance around them. The beach is fairly empty on the dreary grey week day, and with a few adjustments to their umbrella they’d be practically hidden. “And now I’m going to do a little more than stare.” She pulls down the umbrella so it’s gotten them obscured from everyone else.

“Really?” Paige says.

Happy answers her question with a kiss, hooking her legs around Paige’s hip. She rolls on top of Paige, taking her hands and pressing them into the hot sand. Paige giggles against Happy’s lips.

“I like this idea,” Paige mumbles, “but I thought you weren’t into PDA.”

“We’ve got an umbrella,” Happy mumbles, kissing down Paige’s neck. “It’s not all that public if nobody can see you.”

Paige kicks her leg up and knocks the umbrella over. “Now people can see us.” She pulls her hands from Happy’s, running her hands along Happy’s arms. “What are you going to do now?”

They’ve come a long way for Happy to admit to herself that she wanted to be with Paige, a long way for Happy to be able to tell the rest of the team that she wanted to be with Paige.

So it’s not hard for her to lean down and kiss Paige on the beach, without a barrier, without the umbrella. She’s not afraid of what they have anymore. She’s more afraid of losing Paige. For the first time in her life, she wants to hold on as opposed to run.

Happy pulls away and kisses the top of Paige’s nose.

“Did you just –”

“Shh,” Happy says, returning to her space on her own towel. “If you talk about it, I’ll get embarrassed.”

Paige grins at her. “Then we won’t talk about it.” She leans over to kiss Happy on the cheek. “But I’ll think about it.”


	8. Fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy's never really seen fireflies before.

“Hey, look!” Toby whispers into Happy’s ear. She starts – she’d nearly fallen asleep during their stargazing, warm and comfortable in Toby’s arms as the darkness swept over them.

“What?” Happy asks, voice low. “I was sleeping.”

“Yeah, I know, but look!” Toby points. “Fireflies.”

Happy squints. “Where?”

“There!”

Happy leans forward, unable to follow whatever Toby is pointing at. “I don’t see anything.”

“Come on.” Toby leaps up and grabs Happy’s hand before she can react to Toby’s movement, and stands up as he walks toward whatever he was seeing. Happy walks next to him until he throws out an arm to stop her in her tracks.

“What are you –” Happy cuts herself off when she sees it. Flickering lights, three or four of them, floating in the air beside the trees. “Whoa.”

“Aren’t they cool?” Toby asks. He’s practically leaping with excitement. “When my Dad and I would go camping, I couldn’t have been more than six or seven, we’d see them all over the place.” He sighs. “They’re amazing, aren’t they?”

Like she can’t control the action, Happy reaches out to try and touch one, but the light speeds away before she gets close.

“Whoa,” she repeats.

Toby turns to her, his expression hardly visible in the dim moonlight. He’s studying her face. “Have you – have you seen fireflies before?”

Happy shakes her head, mesmerized by the way the lights fade in and out. Her mind starts buzzing with the chemical makeup of these bugs, how they glow in the dark. She’s always been fascinated with bioluminescence – she watched a documentary on Angler fish in second grade – but these are so much closer, so much more tangible. It’s a chemical phenomenon that she can’t replicate, no matter how much she engineers. “I’m a city kid who spent most of her time inside or running for her life,” she mumbles. “Didn’t really have time for camping or playing outdoors.”

Toby gives her one of his patented looks, where she wonders if he’s reading her mind like a book, flipping through the pages of her past that she hasn’t had the nerve to tell him yet. “Hold out your hand and stand really still,” Toby says. Happy does as he suggested and, after a few moments of silence, a firefly settles on her hand. She feels like a child with her excitement and has to remind herself to stay still.

“Cool, huh?” Toby says after it flies away.

Happy nods. “Thanks, Toby.” She looks around the two of them, and, when she realizes everyone else has gone into their tents, stands on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Anything,” Toby murmurs. He yawns. “How about we head to sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Happy takes his hand and nods, following Toby back into their tent. The army fatigues they’d been issued don’t make great pajamas, but she knows she’ll fall asleep quickly after the day they’ve had.

“See?” Toby mumbles, pressing a kiss to Happy’s temple as they curl up in the sleeping bags. “I told you a case in northern Vermont wouldn’t be so bad.”

Happy closes her eyes. “I guess not,” she mumbles, “but I still miss cell service.”


	9. Cologne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy cannot stand the smell of Toby's cologne, but he insists it's the same he's always worn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for vomiting and being ill.
> 
> Also this is longer than a thousand words but I don't care :P

Toby walks out of the shower, scrubbing at his hair with a towel. “Hey, Hap, have you seen my hat?” he asks. “It’s not in the living room.”

“I put it through the shredder,” Happy says lightly, setting down her mascara. “Oops.”

Toby drops the towel on Happy’s head. “Worse wife ever.”

Happy pulls off the towel and smacks Toby’s butt with it. “You weren’t saying that last night.”

“And to think you used to call me a perv,” Toby sighs. “We’re going that dinner, still, right?”

Happy nods. “Duh. Why do you think I’m putting on these earrings?” She points to them. “These are my wedding earrings.”

“Paige told you you had to wear them?” Toby asks with a knowing look.

Happy shrugs. “She gets mean when she’s in charge.”

As Toby gets ready, Happy gets a little discomforted.

“What’s that cologne you’re wearing?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.

“The same cologne I’ve worn every day for fifteen years,” Toby replies. “Why?”

“It’s a little heavy today, don’t you think?” She pulls on her strappy sandals, ignoring the bit of pain in her stomach.

Toby shrugs. “No more than usual. Maybe I sprayed it too close to you.” He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Sorry, honey.”

Happy tries not to let her disgust show on her face. This cologne is completely different from what he usually wears – it has to be. Otherwise she wouldn’t feel so sick right now.

Happy rolls down her car window and leans half out of it as they drive to the restaurant, and Toby looks like a kicked puppy.

“Are you upset with me?” he asks when they get out of the car. “Because I’ve been searching my brain all day and I can’t figure out what I could have done.”

“No, of course not,” Happy replies. Her stomach churns when she takes Toby’s hand, that damn cologne circling her like a cloud. “I just – the smell.”

Toby’s eyes widen. “I know it’s hot out here, but,” he sniffs the collar of his shirt, his arm, “I didn’t think I already stunk up my clothes.”

“No, not that,” Happy says. She can’t help it – she has to step away from him. “Just – that cologne is terrible.”

“How about tomorrow I’ll go get some new stuff, okay?” he says. “And I won’t kiss you, because we’re in public and you look like you’re dying every time I get near you.”

“Thank you,” Happy manages.

They’re out to dinner to celebrate Paige and Walter’s engagement, just an excuse to go someplace nice, but Happy can’t enjoy any of it. She can drink water, but the second she takes a bite of salad, the world starts to turn around her just as badly as her stomach.

“Are you okay?” Paige asks, breaking off her conversation with Cabe to turn to Happy in concern.

Happy nods, trying to rally. “I’m good,” she replies. But then she has a piece of bread with butter, Paige and Toby’s concerned eyes on her, and it all goes wrong. “Not good.” She runs to the bathroom, fancier than anyplace Happy’s ever vomited before today, and lets it loose. She’s glad she’d pulled her hair back – she hasn’t felt this bad since that one time in her twenties when she went shot for shot with a professional wrestler.

She sits back on her heels, trying to catch her breath. “Okay,” she says, trying to keep it together. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

But she knows she’s not.

She’s in the bathroom for a few minutes, feeling a little like death, trying to steady herself. But it’s not working. She can’t even stand – it’s like her legs have gone numb.

There’s a hesitant knock on the door and then, “Hey, Hap? It’s Toby. Are you okay?”

Happy croaks out, “Yeah.”

Toby walks in slowly, then frowns. “You don’t look so good.”

“I don’t feel so good,” Happy replies.

“I swear, there’s nothing new with my cologne,” Toby says, dampening a wash cloth in the sink. “There’s no reason for you to be sick.” He pauses. “Unless…” He hands the wash cloth to Happy. “It could be morning sickness.”

“Morning sickness is in the morning,” Happy groans. “That’s that title.”

“No, Hap.” Toby sighs. “Happy, think about it.”

 She leans against the way, pressing the cold washcloth against her forehead. And then it hits her. “Oh, my god.”

He grins at her. “Yeah.”

“Oh, my god,” she says again. It’s mostly excitement – this has been a long time coming – but it’s tinged with a bit of fear.

Toby leans in to kiss her, but the slightest whiff of the cologne sends Happy’s stomach into somersaults, and she retches again. “We’ll celebrate when you aren’t repulsive,” Happy mumbles.

“Good deal,” Toby says. “So, uh.” He rocks back and forth on his heels. “How are we going to explain our stupid grins when we walk out of here?”

“You really think I’m going to be grinning?” Happy says. “I mean, yeah, I’m happy I’m pregnant.” The words send a thrill of excitement through her – they’ve been hoping for this practically since they got married, and after all the mess of her previous marriage and exhaustion and near-death experiences, the moment is here. They’re going to have a kid – but Happy’s sick as hell. Celebration isn’t going to be happening right now. “But I’m also losing my guts every thirty seconds.”

Toby sighs, beaming at Happy like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen. “I love you.”

“I’m throwing up everywhere and I can’t go near you,” Happy deadpans. “And I think I got puke on your shoes.”

“Yeah,” Toby says, “and it’s all because you’re having my baby. I love you.”

“Just like you to look on the bright side,” Happy says with an eye roll, but Toby helps her stand up. “Before we go back out there, we’ve got to clean up.” She gets a look at herself in the mirror. “I look like I got hit by a truck.”

They do their best to look put together, but Happy’s still pretty certain they’re going to get weird looks when they walk out.

“Weird looks?” Toby asks after Happy expresses her concern. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” Happy scoffs. “You know the team. They’re going to assume we were,” Happy wiggles her eyebrows, “you know.”

“Considering you came in here, clearly about to vomit, I don’t think they’re going to make that call.” He reaches out and takes her hand, staying a step and a half away from her. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” His face breaks into a grin. “I have a pregnant wife to take care of.”

“Possibly pregnant,” Happy corrects. “I should probably take a test first.”

Toby shrugs. “Then we’ll make a stop at the drug store – ginger ale, Saltines, and a pregnancy test.”


	10. Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They drank too much. Way too much.

Happy pushes herself up off of the mattress. She realizes she left drool all over the pillow when she looks at it.

“Lovely,” she mumbles. “Oh, fuck, my head.” She winces, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

Toby sits up from the floor. “You hungover, too?”

“Stop shouting,” Happy groans. “And, yes.” She looks over at him – he’s wearing a pair of tuxedo pants and a party hat. “What the fuck did we do last night?”

“Let’s look around for clues, my dear Watson,” Toby says. He stands up and sways, landing hard on the bed. “Is it possible to be both still drunk and hungover?”

“I don’t know,” Happy says, rubbing her eyes. “You’re the doctor.” She pushes her hair out of her eyes and spots something. Happy’s nails are painted bright pink. “What the –”

“Am I wearing eye liner?” Toby asks, looking at himself in his phone’s camera. He turns to Happy. “Hap, I’m wearing eye liner.”

Happy nods. “It kind of looks good.”

He pokes at her shoulder. “I like the nail polish,” Toby muses.

“Did Paige do our makeup last night?” Happy realizes.

Toby nods slowly. “And I think I’m covered in lipstick because someone,” he stares at Happy, “got a little frisky last night.”

“Oh, god, we made out in the cab,” Happy laughs, dropping her head into her well-manicured hand.

Toby nods. “And you wanted to get in my pants but we were both so drunk we –” Toby pauses, taking off his party hat. “You know, I don’t know how I ended up on the floor and you got the bed.”

“And when did you lose your shirt and I lose my bra?” Happy and Toby look around.

“I think –” Toby stands up and walks into the hallway. “Happy, you gotta look at this.”

Begrudgingly Happy stands and makes her way into the hallway to see her bra hanging from the fire alarm.

“How’d it get up there?” she asks. “And who put it there?”

Toby thinks. “I think – I think I did.”

Happy raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you took off your bra and – and I think you threw it at me,” Toby says slowly.

“And then you put it on the fire alarm,” Happy remembers. “Oh, god, and your shirt is on top of my book case.” They walk into the living room to see Happy proven correct. “Hah! See? That was your doing.”

“You’re the one who started playing Piano Man after Cabe bet you that you couldn’t do two shots of whiskey and then do a cartwheel,” Toby says with a grin.

“I only lost that bet because I couldn’t manage the cartwheel. Someone was standing right in front of me,” Happy replies.

The morning goes on like this for another hour, bantering back and forth with each other about the stupid things they’ve done until they get in the shower and laugh their way through washing the alcohol off of their skin. Toby smears the eye liner so badly he looks like a raccoon, and the lipstick Happy left all over his neck has to be scrubbed off with a loofah. He washes her hair and she nearly falls over, because it’s the most comfortable she’s felt all day.

When they’re clean, Toby makes them both coffee and they curl up in bed, exhaustion and hangovers weighing down on them. Happy manages to snag a couple of apples and a back of Cheez-Its from the pantry, and they snack while getting drowsy, curled up next to each other. They both half to-do lists miles long, but something about the day seems lost, pointless.

“Are we bad people for falling asleep at two thirty on a Sunday?” Toby mumbles. Happy looks up and sees that his eyes are already closed.

“Nah,” Happy replies. She settles her head back on her pillow. “Last Sunday we were in Canada trying to save the world for the millionth time. I think we’re good.”


	11. Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy is certain that something prickly touched her under water.

Happy shrieks, darting away from the strange prickly feeling along the side of her wetsuit. “What is that?!” she exclaims, scrambling to the boat. She’s not convinced these flippers are the best design, as it’s taking her what feels like forever to get out of the water. “Get me out of here!”

Cabe and Walter haul her out of the water. “What is it?” Walter asks. “Did you find the black box? What repairs does it need?”

“Something touched me,” Happy replies, checking all over herself to make sure she isn’t covered in spines or deadly seaweed.

“It’s the ocean,” Toby says, treading water. He looks obnoxiously content in the open ocean. “You’re going to find that we’re in their home, not the other way around.” Happy doesn’t like the way he’s smirking. “Kind of like how you make me kill every ladybug in the house because, and I quote, ‘If they don’t pay rent, they don’t get to live here.’”

Happy glares at him. “Don’t be a dick.” She looks over the side of the boat. “I swear, it was prickly. It felt like one of those puffer fish.”

Cabe scoffs. “Those are over by Japan or China or down south near Florida, kid. Not half a mile off the coast of British Columbia.” He looks at her. “You’re not afraid of the water, are you?”

“No!” Happy replies. “I swear, something touched me. And, on top of that, I’ve nearly drowned enough times to be nervous around water. So shut up.”

“She’s got a point,” Toby says as he struggles to pull himself up onto the boat. “A little help here?”

“Nah, get back in the water,” Happy sighs, resigned. “We’ve got to go get that black box, Doc.”

“And you’re going to listen to me this time, right?” Toby says. “I’m not letting my girlfriend die of the Bends.”

Happy adjusts her goggles and hauls her backpack of repair tools on her back again. “As long as you don’t let me get mauled by any puffer fish,” she replies.

He grins at her. “Never. Mainly because it’s impossible for that to happen in this area of the ocean, but never.” He holds out a hand.

“Oh, move,” she says. She flips backward off the boat and splashes into the water next to Toby. “You ready to go?” Her voice sounds ridiculous and nasal with all the scuba gear.

Toby nods. “Let’s go save the world again.”


	12. Pool Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toby's damned certain he's going to beat Happy in this game of pool. That is, if she wasn't wearing that shirt.

Toby thought he was hot on their walk from their apartment to the bar, summer heat thick and heavy on his skin as they carved through the humid air. It’s nothing compared to how he feels now that Happy’s in front of him, absolutely destroying him at pool, grin on her face like she knows she’s winning and knows how good she looks doing it.

“When did you learn how to do this?” he asks, trying to chalk his pool stick to get out some of his excess energy.

Happy looks up from him as she’s bent over the table, pool stick expertly balanced in her fingers. It’s a look he’s used to – she knows what she’s doing to him. “Grew up in bars, Toby,” she says. She moves the stick with ease and two striped balls go into the pockets. She stands up, grinning at him. “I learned early.”

Toby nods. “I know how that feels.” It’s his turn now, but he takes a minute to drain his tequila sunrise, ignoring the mocking that goes along with it from Happy. “Hey, shut up,” he says, setting the cup down. “It’s good.”

Happy shrugs, picking up her beer. “It’s a stupid drink,” she says. “Just do the tequila shot instead of all the fluff.”

Toby’s about to respond, but then Happy tilts her head back and wraps her lips around the beer bottle. He loses his balance and slips against the table.

Happy sets the bottle down and grins at him. “Oh, you’re so easy,” she says, grinning.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t win,” Toby shoots back.

Happy lets out a low laugh. “We’ll see about that.”

It’s bad enough that the bar isn’t air conditioned, but Toby feels the sweat drip down his back as Happy leans over the table. She’s got on a tank top – one she’s worn a thousand times – but somehow in the bad lighting and liquor-soaked heat of the bar it looks better than it ever has before. He can’t take his eyes off of her, and he’s just glad he’s on the other side of the table whenever Happy leans over in those tight black jeans of hers.

“Still gonna win?” Happy asks, licking her lips.

Toby leans over the table. “Those two solids in that pocket,” he says, nodding to them, “and that one in the corner pocket.”

“Not gonna happen,” Happy scoffs. “No way.” She looks at the table with almost a glare of calculation. “I mean, it can. Technically.” She shoots him a look. “But you’re not that good.”

“Oh, come on,” Toby says, “of all people, you know how good I am with my stick.”

Happy rolls her eyes. “Just take the damned shot already.”

He’s locked his eyes on his shot – he has to hit everything exactly for this to work. Toby’s got his shot lined up, and he’s ready to go. He prepares –

And makes an ungodly squeak, jumping and missing the shot by a mile.

“What the hell, Happy?” he whines. “Pinching my ass is bad sportsmanship.”

“I couldn’t help it,” she says, ridiculous grin on her lips. “You just had it out there.”

“I was wiggling it for you, I’ll admit that,” Toby says, shaking his butt to the bad techno emanating from the dance floor. “And, you win. I forfeit.” He pulls up the pool stick and hands it to the person who’s up next. “Let’s go dance.”

Happy raises an eyebrow. “Dance?”

“Yeah!” Toby says. “We’ve been flirting enough.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Want to take it to the dance floor?”

“We also live together,” Happy says, “which means that we have an empty apartment to go back to,” she steps up to him and loops her fingers through Toby’s belt loops, “which means we can do a lot more than dance in,” she checks her watch, “less than ten minutes.”

Toby nods. “Yep,” he says, grabbing Happy hands. “We’re going home.”


	13. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy's stuck in the car. With Toby. For over three hours. And he's being charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this is a summer fic, and it is, but today is Maggie's birthday and I wanted to give her a last chapter to celebrate! You have been an outstanding support to me in this fandom, a brilliant writer, and a thoughtful collaborator. I appreciate you more than you know. Also, your cat is amazing. Happy birthday, darling!!!

“Feet off the dashboard,” Happy grumbles, managing a glance over to Toby. He looks obnoxiously comfortable like a cat in the sun, beaming as rays settle on his face from the sunroof.

He opens his eyes and sends her that dorky smirk of his. “See? Now you know how it feels when you do it in my car.”

Happy leans over and shoves his thigh. “Your car is a dump. It's not going to mess it up if I get dust on your dash. Mine is the most beautiful thing in this world.”

“Third most beautiful,” Toby says, kissing the back of her hand.

Happy rolls her eyes. “Seriously, if you got any cheesier, you’d be Velveeta.”

“Hey,” Toby suddenly looks serious, “I’d be a great triple-cream brie and you know it.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Happy says, rolling her eyes. She checks the GPS and groans. “Fuck.”

“What? Wrong direction?”

Happy shakes her head and points at the estimated time of arrival.

He leans in. “Yep,” Toby says. “You’ve still got another three hours in the car with me.” He leans in absurdly close to her. “I’m all yours. For three hours.” He kisses her cheek.

Happy laughs and shoves him off. “God, not at work.”

“We’re not at work!” Toby replies. “We’re in your car. And everybody else is going their own separate ways on this job.” She catches him batting his eyelashes. “We’re not even all in the same county.”

“Don’t do that thing with your eyes,” is her reply. “It makes you look like you’ve got dry eye.”

"No," he replies, "it makes you feel unbearably attracted to me."

In response, Happy takes an exit that sends the GPS into an annoyed frenzy, and Toby’s quiet for a minute as they navigate some smaller roads, lined with chain restaurants and supermarkets.

“Happy,” he begins in a tiny voice, “are you kicking me out of the car?”

Happy laughs. “No, you dope. I’m stopping for coffee.” She spots the familiar sign. “If I’m stuck in a car in the middle of a heatwave with you chattering on for a million years, I’m going to need ice and coffee.”

Toby beams as he sees the sign she’s going for. “Starbucks?”

“Duh.”

They pull in and Toby orders something so absurdly complicated that he has to lean over Happy to shout it in to the barista. She, somehow, manages to catch every single piece of the order and repeat it back to them. Happy just ask for an iced cold brew, black, in the biggest size they can get her. If she’s going to keep up with the energizer bunny that is Toby Curtis, she’s going to need too much caffeine.

“I can’t believe you’re getting that when it’s so hot we have the AC pumped to max,” Happy says as she passes Toby the pumpkin spice hot latte with skim milk but no whip and blah, blah, blah. She’s got an eidetic memory and even she can’t be convinced to memorize that nonsense order. She takes her coffee next. Her nice, sensible, normal coffee. It starts to perk her up, even just holding it.

Toby, though, cradles his warm cup in his hands and does a little dance as he smells the curls of steam as they rise from the coffee. “It’s fall. I am getting the essence of Halloween and you in your leather jackets and apple picking.” He smiles. “It’s fall.”

“It’s the beginning of September,” Happy corrects. “It’s still summer. And I thought you hated spices in your coffee."

"Cinnamon," Toby corrects. "I hate cinnamon in my coffee. It makes it taste like Christmas, but not in the right way. Christmas coffee is peppermint. Pumpkin spice is fall coffee."

She stares at him. "You're ridiculous."

Toby looks over to her. “I’d start pouting, except this is really hot so I need to put it down.” He nods behind them. “Also, the other customers are probably getting annoyed about how long this is taking. You should probably pull out of here.”

“Right,” Happy says. “Got too busy being annoyed to pull out of the drive through.” She shoots a smile over at Toby. “Sounds about right.”

“Hey, I am the best at annoying people.” He grins. “Especially you.”

“Oh, don’t go being all charming after being,” she waves her hand at him, “that.”

“I’m always charming,” he replies, taking a sip of his coffee as they pull back onto the highway. “It’s an inherent quality.” He pats the back of her hand. “It’s one of the things you love best about me.”

“I really want to disagree,” Happy mutters as she takes her coffee from Toby, “but, yeah. You’re kind of right.”


End file.
